


outside it starts to pour

by siempreniall



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Always a Girl!Niall, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-12
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2018-01-01 07:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1042179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siempreniall/pseuds/siempreniall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's confident in his decision to not go to college, but he never anticipated his life to be so boring once all his friends moved away. And he never anticipated Niall to change all of that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	outside it starts to pour

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Sweater Weather by The Neighborhood, undeniably the song that inspired this fic 100%.

Harry has a list of reasons why he chose not to go to college stamped in his mind, specifically for situations like these. Times when he’s surrounded by large numbers of people who value their degree more than their life, and they always are so damn _nosy_. He wonders if that’s something you pick up at college, like in “Being an Asshole 101” or maybe on a pamphlet shoved under dorm doors. Either way, he stopped pretending that people would quit asking and just worked on shortening his answers.

“So, like, do you mean you’re taking a gap year? My friend Carlen did that, went to Thailand and worked with an elephant orphanage for a few months. She got the most beautiful pictures there!” Eleanor says with an alcohol-happy grin on her face.

Harry’s only just met her, Louis’s new college girlfriend. She’s giggly and easily excitable, and he really does like her, but she seems to have a problem with listening comprehension.

“Um, not really,” Harry starts, and he gets his brain warm and ready to recite his College is Not For Me rant, “I just looked at my life my senior year and I didn’t know what I what I wanted to do with it, but I just knew it wasn’t college. I hated classes, I hated structured learning. In all honesty I didn’t see why I had to spend so much money for something that would make me so unhappy. A piece of paper shouldn’t determine your worth in life, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s so true,” she says with a soft tone, but it still kinda sounds like she feels sorry for him as she gulps down the last of her gin and tonic. “I’m gonna go get another drink, you want one?”

Harry shakes his head ‘no’ and lets her go back to the kitchen.

It’s a pretty nice party, even for Louis standards. His parents are visiting family friends in Idaho or something like that and he has the whole house to himself for the entirety of his winter break. He has some connections that could get him a good load of alcohol and his house is up in the woods, away from neighbors who would rat them out. The place is decorated really nicely, no doubt done by Louis’s mom and little sisters, and the food’s not half-bad since Eleanor helped.

It’s nice, too, that it brings Harry back to his high school glory days. It feels like the parties Louis would have before they all moved away. Before Louis went to Pepperdine and Liam took off to San Diego State and Zayn started at some art school in the Bay Area. Before everyone moved on with their lives and Harry got stuck in Burney with a job that his mom got him at the office where’s she’s a dental hygienist. He’s sure there are worse things than a job where he answers phones and makes appointments all day, but he really didn’t imagine his life as “it’s not the worst” when he had the Very Important Conversation About The Future with his mother the fall before.

“Having fun, Hazzy?” Louis asks as he rounds the corner and shoves himself into Harry’s personal space. It’s a hobby of his.

Harry smiles, “Yeah, Lou, this is probably one of your best! Even splurged on the good stuff, huh?”

“I know! Have you met Eleanor yet? You two’ll hit it off magically. She likes to have these deep conversations on political theory and, like, feminism and shit. I’m sure you’ll find her enchanting or something. Maybe hark on how fucked up the dual party system in America is together. Eleanor _loves_ talking about that,”

“Um, we met. She seemed to be a little more stoked on how I wasn’t in college,”

Louis winces, “Shit, sorry. She comes from a big academic family. I think her dad even studied at Oxford for a year? Either way, I’m sure she doesn’t like, _mind_ , or anything,”

“No, it’s cool. I’m sure she’s a great girl. Just ask her how she feels about pennies. That’s how I know if we’ll be compatible or not,”

“Great, Haz,” Louis huffs out a laugh, “Fucking pennies. Ever think that maybe the school thing was just an out for her? Maybe she tried to get away because you’re a huge fucking nerd. Ranting on pennies and wearing a sweater with a reindeer on it, Christ,”

“Okay, in my defense this is a _Christmas party_ ,” Harry yells, subconsciously covering the pullover he found in storage a few days before, “Wearing a _Christmas sweater_ doesn’t exactly seem abnormal to me, okay? I didn’t think people were going to actually dress up for it!”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Louis says with his signature grin as he starts backing away.

“Hey, I look _damn_ _cute_ in this sweater!”

It’s not even a beat later that Harry hears a hearty laugh from just behind him, and he spins around to see who it’s coming from. There’s a girl there with soft blonde hair done up in a side braid and a sparkly dress that hits just above her knees. She’s got a cup in one hand while the other covers her laugh, but they shoot up in the air as soon as she realizes Harry’s looking at her.

“No complaints here!” she says quickly, “I think you look cute too,”

“Thank you,” he says back as he pulls the navy sweater further down his torso, “My mom picked it out and everything,”

She laughs again, and this time she doesn’t even try to hide it. It’s hearty and reaches all over her body, making her eyes crinkle and her shoulders shake and her collarbones pop out more pronouncedly. Like Harry might’ve just said the funniest thing in the world.

“That’s funny,” she says as she takes a step closer to him, “I’m Niall, by the way,”

“Niall?” she nods, “I’m Harry,”

“How do you know Louis?” Niall asks.

“I’ve been his best friend, since, God, sixth grade? Fuck, has it been that long? No one should have that much exposure to him,”

Niall laughs again, “Are you _Harry_ , then? Like _Harry_ Harry? The one who got his hand taped to the table and who lets people straighten his hair when he’s drunk and all that?”

“Well, like, Christ. I didn’t think I was a legend or something,”

She steps forward and tugs at a curl close to his left ear, “I’m sure you were still handsome as ever, even with straightened hair,”

Harry self-consciously tucks the piece behind his ear, even if it springs back out again, “I wouldn’t place too much money on it,”

Suddenly the room gets louder as Louis (finally) figures out how to get all the audio equipment working and Zayn steps up to take his place as “DJ Malik”.

“Do you wanna go outside?” Niall yells, her eyes scanning over the growing crowd of people.

“Are you sure? It’s cold out there!”

“Yeah, come on!”

She leads the way out the front door and waits by the porch step for Harry to follow her. He does, closing the door to trap the sound inside, and leaning against the pole there.

“Sorry,” she says, taking a deep breath, “It was getting kinda loud in there and everyone was filling into the den to dance. It’s a bit overwhelming, yeah? Sorry, I have claustrophobia. I can get weird about stuff like that,”

“Don’t apologize. It’s a bit cold but I like it. Keeps you awake,”

“I’d be lying, though,” Niall says as she twirls the ribbon at the end of her braid around her finger, “if I didn’t _partially_ do it so I could get you all to myself,”

Harry blushes and it warms up his face against the biting wind, “Don’t know why. I’m nothing special,”

“I don’t see anyone else in there wearing an ugly Christmas sweater. Do you?”

“Awww,” he drawls, feigning offense, “I like this sweater,”

“Nothing against it,” she adds as she turns to look over the quiet street.

Harry takes a moment to finally get a good look at Niall, out of the darkness of the den and under the porch light. She has a strong nose and chin, but her smile is thin with lips the color of pink lemonade. He wants to taste them, thinks she’s the kind of girl to pick a lip gloss based on flavor. Wants to know what taste she likes to leave on boys’ mouths, what song she’s playing over in her head that she’s absent-mindedly swaying to. Wants to brush his fingers over the freckles on her cheeks that lead down her neck, burrowing their way into unknown territory. Wants to see if the red across her cheeks is from makeup or the cold, or maybe she’s as nervous as he is.

“Harry” she says, pulling his attention back to her “you were staring,”

“At what?”

Niall smiles, “The prettiest girl at the party,”

“Oh, really?” she shrugs, “Well, guess I better go try and find her to apologize…”

He gets a bark of a laugh in turn, and then Niall’s grabbing his hand and leading him out further into the yard.

“Bold,” she says defiantly. 

“I try,”

Niall stops in the middle of the yard and lets go of his hand to stare up at the overcast sky. He assumes a moon is up there somewhere, but there are so many clouds that he can’t tell.

“Tell me about yourself,” she says lowly, and Harry doesn’t like how dark it is out here. If only because he can’t really see her.

“Um,” he begins, mentally patting himself on the back for a fantastic start, “I’m Harry Styles. 18. Live with my mom in a house behind the personal storage place on Main. A big believer in cold weather, being nice, and fruit,”

“Fruit,” she says, and lets out a breathy giggle that he can barely hear, “No college then?”

Harry stills, “How can you tell?”

“It would’ve been the first thing out of your mouth, probably. That you go to Chico State and you’re majoring in economics with a possible minor in French (but you’re not sure) and you’re planning on moving off campus next year because the dorms just make you feel like a child, you know?”

It’s Harry turn to laugh now because at least she doesn’t seem to be judging him for his decision.

“It’s not really that bad,” he says, “I like hearing about what my friends are doing away at school,”

“I know but,” Niall starts, and she pulls her arms closer around herself to keep out the slight wind, “I’d much rather hear that you’re a big believer in fruit as opposed to what classes you’re taking this semester. I mean, that’s the important issue! What kind of fruit? With or without the peel? Why fruit? Why not vegetables or grains? You know, the list can go on and on,”

They grow quiet again and Niall rubs absent-mindedly at the rim of her Solo cup. Harry notices that it’s empty and thinks that maybe he should offer to get her a new drink. But that would require leaving her alone out here, or dragging her inside where someone more interesting might grab her attention. Neither seems that appealing to him, so instead he tries to rack his brain to find something to talk to her about.

“Okay, so you asked about me,” he tries, “What about you? Tell me some about you,”

“Hmm, well,” Niall starts, and she does a small turn as she stares up into the night sky, as if the hidden stars will help her find herself, “I’m Niall Horan, 18 years old and live with my mom and dad and my brother just on that road over there, down like half a mile. I love the beach and playing the guitar and my family. Oh, and puedo hablar español un poco,”

“Really?”

“Sí,”

“Wait, you didn’t mention college. And according to your rules-”

“Fuck!” Niall yells out, and then she’s running away back towards the house. Harry starts laughing as he thinks he’s caught her in some sort of lie, but then he feels the pounding of water on his back. He tries to cover himself for a few moments before gathering his senses and running to where Niall had taken cover in the garage. She’s leaning against the back of Louis’s stepdad’s SUV and laughing at him as he finally ducks in.

“Why didn’t you tell me!” he yells.

Niall shrugs, “I thought my enthusiastic ‘fuck’ got the point across quite well,”

“My hair’s all wet,” Harry pouts.

“I’m sure you could just shake it like a dog or something, yeah?” she says as she reaches up to pet over his hair. He really wishes Niall’d stop doing that – touching his hair when she is making no promises to keep on going.

“That’s not the only casualty. Seems like someone lost their cup,” he says.

“Oh no!” Niall gasps as she brings her hands to her face, “Won’t anyone think of my empty cup of Sprite?”

“Sprite? You not drink or something?”

“It’s um,” she starts, kicking at the soles of her shoes, “It was already hard enough to convince my dad to let me come. I didn’t want to push it too far and come home with alcohol on my breath. I’d like to have a social life after tonight, y’know?”

Harry nods then remembers what he’d wanted to say before the rain interrupted them.

“So you in college?”

Niall draws her lips in a firm line and huffs heavily out her nose.

“I mean,” he continues “if you don’t want to talk about it I won’t make you,”

“It’s not…” she starts, “I’m fine, but yeah I’m not in college. But that’s because… that’s because I’m still in high school,”

Harry can physically feel his eyes bugging out at that.

“Wait, shit, you said… you said you’re 18!”

“I am! I am I am I am! I’m an 18-year-old senior. I didn’t really want to tell you, though, because I didn’t want to scare you off. People treat you like a child when you’re still in high school, and you were treating me like a normal person. I didn’t want that to stop!”

“But you’re eighteen? You’re-” Harry stops himself before saying “legal”.

“I promise to you I did not lie about that,”

“Ok,” he nods, “Yeah, good,”

Niall hugs her arms in closer again to get herself warm. Harry looks down and can see goose bumps already rising on her skin and her knobby knees knocking together. It doesn’t help, either, that the rain pouring down outside is starting to mist in with the wind. He wishes he had something to offer her, like a jacket or a blanket or something, but all he’s left with is his sweater. And he’s certainly not going to be giving that to her just yet – she’s the one who won’t go the hell inside.

“You alright?” he asks.

Niall looks up at him, makes a mental note that her eyes remind him of the color of the Pacific Ocean on a sunny day, and shakes her head.

“I’m fine, just a bit chilly,”

“If you want we can go-”

“I don’t want to go inside!” she nearly yells, “I like it out here,”

Harry tries to think through why the hell she’d like it out here on a freezing cold, cloudy night. When it’s pouring down rain and they’re huddled in the garage where it smells faintly of fertilizer. Then she clarifies.

“I like it out here _with you_ ,”

It’s the biggest challenge in his life, Harry thinks, to try and stop the ridiculous grin that’s trying to take over his face.

“Where’re you most cold, then?” he offers, “Maybe I could help,”

“Um, my hands’ve got the worst of it, I think. Maybe my legs next,” Niall answers.

“I don’t know about the legs but I think I can be of use with the first part,” he says as he pulls at the sleeves of his sweater so that they hang past his fingertips, “Here, put your hands in here,”

Niall looks down at the holes like it’s the dumbest thing she’s ever heard. And she tells him as much.

“Excuse me, I don’t think you’re in the position to say that, actually,” Harry starts,”  I’m the one with perfectly warm hands who’s offering up his cozy sweater sleeves from the goodness of his heart…”

“Fine, fine!” she relents, shoving her hands in, “Shit, why are guys always so warm? It’s like you’re a furnace,”

“It’s to make up for our cold hearts,” he jokes. Niall laughs at it, and with her hands trapped she can’t cover her face as she does so. Harry likes that.

“I’m more of a warm weather girl,” Niall explains as she drops her head to rest against Harry’s chest, “I was born and raised near Santa Barbara, my parents only moved up here after the housing crisis. They were lucky enough to sell their house and they took their chance while they had it. Leaving the beautiful, sunny days of SoCal behind for whatever the hell the Sacramento Valley can be classified as,”

“I’ve lived here all my life,” Harry picks up, “It’s all I’ve ever known, really. I like the cold and how the wind can seep into your bones and make itself linger long after you’ve gone inside. It just gives you, like, a sense of permanency. That we can’t decide when the cold comes in and if our plants in the garden are prepared for it or if _we’re_ prepared for it. And we can’t decide how long it’ll stay. We’re just left with this raw, sensitive core until spring comes and fills us with light again,”

There’s a moment of silence, and then Harry can feel Niall slightly shaking against his chest, followed by snickering muffled into his sweater.

“Wow, sorry I opened up for you,” he huffs, and he’s only _half_ being serious.

Niall props her chin on his chest and looks up at him from those ridiculous eyes, “Hey. I was kidding. I like it when you talk like that. Sorry,”

And then she’s closing her eyes and standing on her tippy toes and extending her neck, pressing her lips softly to Harry’s where they’re closed and kinda dry. He’s sure it wasn’t the greatest kiss of her life (or his, really) but at least now he knows that her lips don’t taste like any color of lemonade.

“You can say whatever you want about my dumb diatribes as long as you keep doing that,” Harry says quickly, and he can feel Niall stretching up again to kiss him. He licks his lips before she can get there and tries not to be so damn stiff about it.

“Sorry,” she whispers, giving him another quick peck.

He leans down before she has a chance to stretch up again, trying to take some of the work off of her. The next kiss is more of a smile smashed against his, and the one after that has Niall opening her mouth, inviting Harry to do the same.

Suddenly, Harry feels his arms being lifted and he stops to figure out why as Niall giggles underneath him.

“Sorry,” she says softly, picking her hands out of Harry’s sleeves, “forgot we got kinda connected there,”

He smiles as he brings his hands up to cup her face, running his thumbs over the freckles there.

“You’re beautiful,” he says lowly, and Niall visibly relaxes at that. Her lips perk up into a soft smile and Harry can see the glint of her white teeth.

He think it’s a damn tragedy that it’s the only compliment he’s given her since she injected herself into his life an hour before. Feels like he should be writing poetry about the way her hands have made themselves at home on his back. Like he should be telling her over and over again how he looks forward to every smile he pulls out of her and that her laugh echoes in his mind until it’s gone numb. That she’s the smartest person he’s ever met and she needs to keep talking to him. About everything, about anything.

Instead, he says, “Bold,” as she moves her hands to rest under the hem of his sweater at the small of his back, icy against the heated skin there.

“They were cold,” she pouts, and Harry takes the chance to tug at her bottom lip.

And when Niall, finally, opens up, it sends off bells ringing in Harry’s head. How she can be so cold all over her body, small bumps under Harry’s fingers as he runs them up and down her arms. But then her tongue is a feisty and warm match for his. Not a surprise, he thinks.

“Shit,” she says suddenly, and Harry opens his eyes to see that the lights have been turned off.

“One sec,” he says, kicking behind him to trip the sensor. The lights flick back on and he looks back to see Niall looking up at him. Her eyeliner’s smudged and her braid looks a bit shaken at some points, but her cheeks are ruddy as ever and he hopes that they’ll stay that way.

“Wow! I didn’t know you’re a magician too? Is there anything Señor Styles can’t do?”

“Well I do dabble in many arts. I’ve been particularly commended for my juggling and bubble blowing skills. Still working on my origami mastery, but it’s coming along nicely I think,”

Niall laughs again and pulls her hands out from under Harry’s sweater. She messes a bit with her hair and smoothes over his shoulder, finally picking up his wrist and staring at his watch.

“It’s almost twelve,” she says, “We should probably go inside,”

“Why, are some mice gonna come out pulling a pumpkin and take you away?”

“No, but I think it’d be pretty rude to go to someone’s birthday party and miss singing him happy birthday,”

“Shit,” Harry finally remembers his reason for even being at the party, Louis’s 19th birthday, “Yeah, um, we should probably get inside, yeah?”

Niall nods and takes Harry’s hand, leading him back into the house where everyone has already congregated around a Spiderman cake that somehow manages to hold 19 candles. Louis stands with an arm around Eleanor’s waist, pulling her closer as the large party of people sings to him. He scans the crowd in front of him, but his eyes stop on how Harry’s drumming a beat into Niall’s shoulder. He sends a sly smile in his direction before leaning down to kiss Eleanor’s forehead as the song finishes.

**

“When’re you planning on leaving?” Niall asks once the party starts to die down. After the cake had been doled out the two of them had returned to join the rest of the party. Now they’re sitting in the den, Niall in Harry’s lap, watching the slow trickle of people leaving.

“I wasn’t really,” Harry replies, “I was kinda just going to sleep over and help Lou clean up in the morning,”

She turns her waist and starts batting her long eyelashes at him, “Will you drive me home? I walked here and I don’t feel like walking back so late at night,”

He doesn’t even have to think about it, “Yeah, of course,”

“Great!” she says with a kiss to his forehead, “Let me just go grab my coat,”

“Coat?” Harry yells, “You brought a coat?”

Niall scoffs, “Of course I did! Why wouldn’t I bring a coat?”

“But if you had a coat why did you suffer without it outside?”

She leaves up the stairs with a wink in his direction, and Harry has the feeling he’ll never quite understand what she ever means.

**

“Nice truck,” Niall says as she runs her hand over the cold metal frame.

Harry smiles, “Thanks, it was my dad’s,”

Usually when he brings up his dad in the past tense someone will ask about it, but Niall just nods and gets into the cab without probing further. He likes that.

It’s an easy drive to her house, only a turn or two and then a straight shot down a quiet road. The car’s silent the entire way, only the sound of some soft rock station on in the background. Finally, she tells him to pull over to the left in front of a yellow house with a white fence and big trees. It’s bright and cheery, and Harry vaguely thinks that it fits her.

“Thanks for the ride,” she offers, and Harry half-expects her to get out and just leave. The car’s cold, and even with the addition of a coat she’s looking frozen still. She doesn’t move, though, instead just stares at him with those stupidly big, blue eyes.

When she undoes her seatbelt he unlocks the door for her, but instead of getting out she just turns to face Harry in her seat. He sees it play out in slow motion, her hand reaching out to cup his cheek and the soft, impossible flutter of her eyes as she leans in close and presses her lips against his.

And he’s been acting pretty slow, really this entire night, but for once he reacts quickly, unbuckling himself and leaning forward so she doesn’t have to do all the work. She runs her hand up and down his arm and he grabs onto her shoulder to ease her forward. It’s a bit awkward because his head keeps hitting the roof and the stick shift is getting in the way and her hands are so cold that they raise goose bumps on Harry’s skin wherever she touches. But he lets himself get lost in her touch, in the smell of her perfume and hint of teeth at his lips and how her nails scratch lightly where his hairline meets his neck. When she pulls away, leaving a small peck to the corner of his mouth, he finally wills himself to think.

“Is your dad gonna see us out here and get mad?”

“Christ, am I that bad of a kisser that you’ve been thinking about my da the entire time?” she asks, but the question ends with a smile and there’s no obvious bite to it.

“You just mentioned him being protective before, and I’m just making sure I don’t have to expect him walking out here brandishing a shotgun, threatening me for ravaging his virginal daughter or something,”

Niall giggles as she falls back into her seat, “He’d honestly probably be angrier that you’ve pegged him as a gun freak. You don’t have to worry about him, though. He’s pretty much just a teddy bear,”

Harry lets his head rest against the seat, trying to run through everything in his mind. Niall’s finally grown restless, though, and she leans up to press a small kiss right above his eyebrow before she’s pulling at the door handle.

“Call me,” she says with a slight smile, but it’s less of a request and more of a demand that Harry’s all too eager to fill.

She runs through the yard and does an impressive leap over a flowerbed by the front porch. Before closing the door, she blows a kiss, and after she’s inside she shuts off the porch light, leaving Harry alone in the near-dark. He runs the tips of his fingers over his cheek, cherishing the memory of Niall there, and on his arms, and tingling through his palms. And then a realization hits him that has him hitting his forehead against the steering wheel, cursing himself for being so _dumb._

He never asked for her number.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the thing - I intended this to be long. But I'm so busy that I've never gotten past this first part. I like it too much not to post, though, and I hope to someday (hopefully dear God) finish it. I think it's a fine enough part on its own, though.


End file.
